


Millions of Stories

by orphan_account



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Actor/Author AU, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, F/M, I swear too much, I'll probably add tags as I go, M/M, Trans Character, Trans Jeremy Heere, Trans Male Character, WARNING: DISCONTINUED STORY, WILL NOT BE FINISHING IT, and characters too, and oh ma god why are there so many time skips i hate this, enemy is a strong word but they do not really like each other at the start, he also writes scripts to plays sometimes, jeremy is an actor on broadway, michael is a journalist, well off broadway at the start but then broadway later on, who often reviews plays/musicals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2018-12-04 10:58:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11553771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The show sucked, but when you're a journalist and get free tickets to shows, while being paid to go? You go.Jeremy was the only bearable thing about the entire show, but it turned out that this kid wasn't too found of Michael.





	1. The Play - Be More Chill

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first chapter, and i'm going to immediately start working on the second chapter so I hope to have that out soon (with the help of my two beta readers helping me out)  
> I promise Jeremy will be in the next chapter!  
> if you're here from tumblr, hi i love you thank you for reading this

The show wasn’t… well it wasn’t good. In any way. Michael knew that going into this, as he had shown up late the day they were handing out spots for reviews on the newest shows around town. This meant he was stuck reviewing this notoriously awful play in some hole in the wall off-broadway theater. 

But he thought, ‘what the hell, it can’t be so bad. I’ll get a couple hours of free entertainment. Maybe it’ll be so bad it’ll be funny.’

He was wrong. He was oh-so-fucking-wrong. It had everyone in this theater cringing for two straight hours, maybe of them not coming back after the intermission. (Michael didn’t blame them. If he could have left without risking his job, he would have too.)

The gist of the show was that it was a play on Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream but set in Georgia with.. Zombies? All Michael remembered about this specific play was when they had to read it for class in 7th grade and this was a very different version than he remembered. It was a mess. You could tell none of the actors were really even into this wreck they were performing, well, all except for the lead.

Jeremy Heere. 

All Michael knew going into this was that his friend (and fellow journalist) Jenna had told him that this Jeremy guy was amazing. And god-she was right.

The only reason Michael could even stand to stay awake during this whole thing was the fact that this guy lit up the stage all on his own.

This was also the reason that Michael went against the rule to leave as soon as the show is over, and instead leaped out of his seat to give this Jeremy kid a standing ovation. He stuck out out the crowd as everyone else was half leaving the small theater and were half-assed clapping.

He didn't know what exactly attracted him to this tall, almost too skinny man. Sure he was attractive physically, but Michael had met many attractive men living in New York. That wasn't it. 

Maybe it was the way he seemed so commanding on stage, and how even when it wasn't his line he still managed to hold everyone's attention. The moments on stage without him seemed dull and lifeless, while when he was acting it made the whole play come back to life-at least as alive as a Shakespeare play about zombies could be.

Yeah.. okay maybe Michael knew exactly what the boy could do to make his stomach turn and keep him from being able to stay still in his seat the entire showing.

As he watched the actor take his final bow and rush off stage with the rest of his cast, he tucked the flimsy playbill under his arm (along with his notepad littered with ‘Jeremy?’s all over the page) and made his way out of the theater into the busy streets of New York.

_(He was still felt new to the city every time he was caught in a crowd, even after living there for four years._

_After college he booked his ass out of New Jersey with the help of his moms and his beat to hell PT. Cruiser that somehow sold for enough for him to afford to rent a crappy dorm while he worked his ass off through college._

_Lucky enough for Michael, not too long after he started his classes a local paper picked him up to write an article. Then another. And another. And he kept writing shorts for their papers until one company finally offered him a part time job. It paid well enough for him to move off campus and closer to his work, and he was pretty free to write how he wanted on his own time. And the schedule worked well with his time needed to be on campus, so that was a plus._

_Once he was finally a college graduate, he moved to working full time and god did he love it. Michael couldn’t believe he got to wake up every morning and go write for a living. How could there be any cooler of a job!?_

_Sure most of his days were spent writing dumb articles about who wore what to where but he got to write an occasional ‘pride’ piece as he was the offices token ‘hipster gay’ as Jenna had nicely (rudely and against his wishes) got everyone to refer to him as._

_(Michael did like to spend most of his days writing little bits here and there on scripts of plays he wrote for fun. He never really thought they’d go anywhere, as he had been writing them since he was in middle school and they never left the security of his laptop.))_

As he shoved through the crowded streets, his breath fogging up his glasses as he tried to warm his hands, he watched the streets he barely knew and also knew far too well, light up the night. 

Michael thought about stopping and calling a cab, but decided the hassle of trying to stop a cabby and paying the insane fee wasn’t worth it. And he only lived a couple streets over. So he trudged on, humming a tune to himself.

 _‘Finally’_ his hand shook slightly as he unlocked the door to his small apartment, having to shove his body against it slightly to shove it open like always. 

_‘I’m never gonna get that fixed am i?’_ Michael questioned himself as he had to shove it back closed, locking it behind him, and immediately turning the heat on to try to melt the chill that had taken over his body.

Dropping his keys onto the old coffee table in the middle of the room, he let himself sink into the couch. He sat there, sighing for a minute before finally leaning down and tugging his shoes off. 

Jeremy Heere.

Michael paused for a moment, staring and his snow covered converse before sliding his phone out of his jean pocket, unlocking it.

 _‘Jeremy Heere.’_ His, still frozen, fingers typed into the search bar of Google. Seconds later the page had loaded, and he was face to face with the same smiling boy he had seen standing on stage not only 30 minutes before.

Scrolling a little he saw that there had been a Playbill article about this young guy, and curiously Michael couldn’t stop himself as he clicked on the link.

His eyes skimmed the page as he read all the incredible compliments the writer of the article had laid out for this Jeremy Heere.

 _‘Stop it. You need to be writing your own article. Don't get distracted and wait till the last second.’_ His own mind scolded him, but it was enough to get him to shut his phone off and grab the notepad he had discarded moments before.

Shoving himself off of the couch, Michael slipping comfortably into his desk chair, turning his laptop on with a satisfied click.

“This is gonna be a long night,” Michael said aloud to himself as he opened a new word document up and began to give his completely honest review of the disastrous play he witnessed that night.

Well… almost his completely honest review. He may have let some of his own personal feelings towards the lead get in the way of that part of his article. 

You can’t be completely unbiased all the time…. Right?


	2. The Fight - Calvin Berger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fighting ensues between these two idiots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took way longer than i thought it would i apologize to the 4 people reading this aaa  
> had two beta readers check this so it should be good

Jeremy should have listened to Christine. He shouldn’t have gone to this guys work. Christine told him it was a terrible idea to just show up at this guy’s, whom he had never spoken to before, actual work. He’s not that kind of person.

Yet, here he is. Standing outside of the office building, holding the review he had printed earlier that morning in his (slightly shaking) hands. The paper was slightly wrinkled and one of the corners was torn from where he had been fumbling with it on the subway ride over.

Letting out the breath he had been holding in, he saw it fog out in front of his face as he shoved through the doors. 

_‘103-104-105’_ Jeremy counted the office numbers as he pushed forward, growing more and more confident with each step of his feet.

When he finally found the right cubicle farm, the hard part now was finding the correct person and show them a piece of his mind.

“Can I help you?” Jeremy heard a voice behind him, whipping around to come face to face (give or take a few inches) with a guy moving to sit behind the receptionists desk.

“Yeah I uh-I’m looking for Michael? Michael Mell-l,” he silently cursed at himself as he let his stutter seep through a little. He’s been trying to work on that.

A smirk suddenly raised on the smaller man's face as he leaning back in his chair, “Oh, Michael huh?”

“Well, yeah that’s what i just-” Jeremy was quickly cut off.

“Hey Mike!! This guy's looking for you!” The guy -who Jeremy still had yet to learn the name of- called out, motioning to, whom Jeremy assumed was, Michael behind him.

He spun on his heels once again.

“Thanks Rich.” This Michael guy said, raising the coffee cup in his hand as a small nod to the man, before turning his attention to Jeremy.

“Michael? Michael Mell?” Jeremy repeated, making sure he was speaking to the right guy before he started on his rant.

“Yep, follow me.” Was all the taller boy said as he began to weave his way through the crowd of desk cubicles.

“Oh-” Jeremy managed to spit out as he quickly followed him, his eyebrows furrowing. Why was he making him go to his desk with him? He really just wanted to ask him about the review and be on his way.

“So, I’m assuming that,” Michael paused, motioning to the paper in Jeremy’s hand. “Is the review of the show last night?”

Jeremy couldn’t help but be a little annoyed at how casual he seemed to be taking this.

“It is, and I have some stuff I wanna talk to you about regarding this certain review.” he spoke, thanking every God imaginable for keeping his voice steady. 

“You do huh? I thought I left you quite a nice one!” the boy spoke smugly, setting his cup on the desk next to a litter of papers as he turned his full attention to the pale kid in front of him.

“Well-you did! And that’s the problem! Everything else you said about the show and my fellow castmates was brutally honest!” Jeremy unfolded the paper, shoving it into the man's chest. “So why not me? Why was my section of it so.. So just-”

“Wait wait, you’re mad that I gave you a _good_ review?” Michael couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his throat, looking down at the page that held his work on it.

“No. I’m pissed because you gave me a dishonest review! There is no way that everything about this show, which we happened to work our asses off on by the way, was so terrible and yet you loved my performance!” 

He wasn’t going to leave without an answer, but the cocky smirk that hung on this guys face was making it seem like Jeremy was going to have to work a bit harder for one than he had originally anticipated. 

“Yes, okay, the show wasn’t the best but you know what? We worked day and night for weeks to learn it and make it our own and you think you can just waltz right into the theater with your tattoos and your hipster glasses and judge everyone horribly because you didn’t ‘get it’?” His arms crossed over his chest as he tried to make himself seem a little more intimidating. That was proving harder to do being as this guy was taller and way more muscular than Jeremy.

Something about the way this kid spoke to Michael seemed to make a flip switch in him, as he was not slightly annoyed instead of amused now. How dare he come into Michael’s work space and insult not only his work but now him as a person too?

“Oh i’m sorry, i didn’t think your ‘pretty boy ego’ could handle my honest review. Besides, if a good review causes you to storm the place, I can’t imagine where I’d be right now if I had given you a bad one.” Michael barked back, thankful nobody else was really into work yet to witness this madness.

_‘Pretty boy ego?!’_ Jeremy’s mind repeated as his chest puffed out slightly with more and more anger.

“If you had just given me an honest review then I wouldn’t have to be standing here arguing with you!!” He fought back.

“Fine! You want honest?!” Michael dropped the page onto his desk, raising his eyebrows at Jeremy. “Your delivery of some of the supposedly funny lines came out as flat and lifeless, you don’t project your voice enough, and god stop hunching your back!”

He reached his hands out, grabbing him by the shoulders and straightened his posture the best that he could before his arms were smacked away.

“Back off,” Jeremy spat, shuffling his feet back slightly to distance himself from this Michael guy as he tried to think of a comeback to what he had said. Technically it’s what he had wanted, constructive criticism, but why couldn’t he have just written this down the first time?

“Jesus- I was trying to help you not hurt your back, not put the moves on you dude.” Michael rolled his eyes, shoving his chair back as he took a seat finally.

“I didn’t-you weren’t-we-” Jeremy’s face turned a pale shade of pink as he tried to backtrack, suddenly caught off guard by his comments.

“Don’t have a meltdown about it, just leave.” He replied, not looking back up as he turned his computer on.

Why was he still standing there? Didn’t he get what he wanted? Can’t he leave now? 

Taking a few deep breaths, Jeremy shook his head slightly before speaking again, “Fine. but i hope to never see my name in another one of your articles again.”

“Mmhm. Good luck with that, Hunchback.” Michael let the insult slip off of his tongue without thinking. This wasn’t really like him. With all of the stuff he went through with bullies in high school, even he was mad at himself for treating the guy this way but he started it!

Without another word Jeremy turned back the way that he had come, waving a quick goodbye to the receptionist- Rich, right that was his name, before adventuring back into the cold wintery streets.

The cold stung against his features as he shoved his hands into his coat pockets, letting his feet shuffle a little as he trekked to the subway stop.

At least that was the last he would see of that asshole.

\-----

Well.. it was supposed to be.

Michael didn’t mean to do it the first time, it was a coincidence that Jeremy happened to be in the ensemble of the next show he went to write about.

He left his name out of the article completely, just like Jeremy told him to.

But the next time? Not so much an accident. Michael may have offered (begged) for the next show that he saw the brunettes name in. He wasn’t sure if it was in spite of him, or if he enjoyed watching him perform, but either way he managed to land the gig.

It was kind of hard to keep his name out of the next one, he was the lead in this show too. 

So as Michael sat down at his home desk, he typed away until his fingertips hurt and he could see the sun peaking through his blinds the next morning.

\-----

And that’s how Jeremy ended up back at the receptionist desk of the office building, hold yet another paper in his hands.

“You know, I wrote that. And its online. You don’t have to keep printing them out to shove in my face.” The familiar voice chuckled as he walked up to Jeremy, holding a coffee in his hands much like before.

Michael looked rough this time Jeremy saw him. His hair was slightly ruffled like he had been messing with it, a couple pieces hanging into his face, bags hung under his brown eyes as he took a prolonged sip from his to-go cup.

“What? Can’t think of a witty comeback?” His tiredness couldn’t stop the teasing manner of his words. It was just so fun to watch the way the pale boys features would to into a scowl with every jab he threw at him.

Jeremy said the first thing that came to his mind, which happened to be, “Maybe I was distracted by how half dead you look today. Jeez.”

“Nice.” was all Michael muttered as he grabbed the stack of mail off of the front desk out of the box with his name labeled on it.

“Whatever. You obviously didn’t sleep last night and it seems like you’re never going to leave me the hell alone so why bother.” Jeremy spat, moving to shove past him without realizing Michael had turned to walk off in the same direction, their shoulders colliding roughly.

The next thing Jeremy knew, Michael was covered in his morning coffee as he sent glares that could kill in his direction.

“I-” His mind suddenly went blank, an unusual thing for him, as he tried to find the right words to say. Should he apologize? He hadn’t meant to do it on purpose.. But the guy was getting on his nerves. _No_ he didn't deserve to be covered in steaming coffee because Jeremy didn’t like the guy.

“Wow. That’s low, even for you.” Michael shot back at Jeremy's loss for words to say, looking back up from his stained shirt.

Shaking his head, Michael decided to do the last thing Jeremy thought he would have done in this situation. Instead of throwing a punch or another insult his way, Jeremy now had half a cup of coffee being poured over his sweater.

“What the _fuck?!_ ” He yelped, jerking back in an attempt to stop any more of the hot drink from coming into contact with him.

“Well it’s only fair that you get some too!” Michael dropped the now empty paper cup being tossed into the trashcan beside Rich’s desk.

“I didn’t mean to bump into you, asshole!!” Jeremy pulled at the front of his jumper, the material already becoming sticky against his skin. 

“Yeah-Okay.” One eye roll later and suddenly Michael was pressed into Jeremy’s front, taking him by surprise.

Michael was now trying to cover him in the coffee still dripping off his own white dress shirt, pulling him into a, fairly aggressive, ‘hug’ type of thing.

“So I give you yet another _good_ review, and yet you still come up here to terrorize me for breaking your poor fragile little heart huh?” Michael accused him, too focused on arguing to realize how completely inappropriate his actions were, as he was basically rubbing himself against Jeremy.

As Jeremy tried to shove him off, failing miserably being as he was way less built than him, he choked a little on the air at Michael’s words.

“You’re the one who still refuses to give me a truly honest review! I came up here once before and warned you about writing about my shows again and yet you’ve come to two of them since then! You’re asking for it now!!”

“Oh I’m asking for it huh?-” Michael’s poorly thought out comeback was cut off by a hard shove to his chest, causing him to stumble back a little as his arms retracted from Jeremy’s thin frame.

“Break it up ladies.” Rich spoke, shoving his phone back into his pocket (neither of the men had realized their little scene had been recorded), after finally breaking the two apart. “Keep it professional. You two can take it outside if you need to finish… whatever the hell I just watched.”

“No. I’m leaving.” Jeremy’s eyes flickered from Rich back to Michael before he straightened himself out.

“Good. Great. Yell at me, ruin my shirt, and then leave.” The harshness in Michael’s words didn’t come off as strongly as they hard earlier, both of the boys now wearing a similar flush in their cheeks after realizing half of the office had been watching them.

“See you soon Jeremy.” Rich cut off the ongoing banter, waving a hand towards the entrance.

“Yeah. You will.” He said without thinking too much about his words as he felt his feet moving back outside, his sweater becoming more and more uncomfortable against his chest by the second.

_Christine was right, coming to his work to confront him was an awful idea._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know its 1:30 am but aaaaa i'm sorry i wanted to post it asap  
> kudos and comments are always appreciated!!  
> check out my tumblr if you wanna chat/see updates on my writing process - connormurphweed


	3. Falling for the Boy - Bubble Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael learns new things about Jeremys past, Rich gets the hots for a new up and coming agent, and an anonymous article is written about a certain evil Squip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first off; i am soooo sorry this took so long to write. I hit a wall and wrote 1.5k of this chapter and then BROKE and didn't know how to finish it at all. but now that this part is out of the way it is now time to move onto the fun stuff!!  
> second; this chapter is dedicated to @pink-berry-froyo / @artttho on tumblr because they sent me an adorable drawing of tattooed Michael telling me I could finish this chapter and that pushed me to sit down and do just that!!!
> 
> enjoy the chapter!! it's a full 8 pages so i'm pretty happy with myself there aha, they'll get longer as the fic goes on I promise

Michael wasn’t used to people making appointments to come speak with him, especially from people he had never spoken to or even _heard_ of before.

So when some man calls the same day Michael gets a coffee spilt on him from the world’s most awkward asshole (aka, Jeremy Heere) he just assumes he’s supposed to agree to this bizarre meeting. 

Not that a weird meeting with a stranger he has only spoken to over the phone once was really helping with his anxiety levels. Michael normally wouldn’t smoke in the middle of the day but that’s how he was currently spending his lunch break.

Letting the smoke leave his chapped lips, Michael wouldn’t help but let his mind wander to that day... And that boy.

He got on his nerves. He was abrasive. He was loud. He wouldn’t stop coming to Michael’s work space to yell at him. He made Michael have to go out and buy a new shirt because _holy fuck who knew coffee stains were so hard to get out._

Michael would be lying if he said he didn’t find him the least bit attractive though. His piercing bluish green eyes were a stark contrast to Michael’s own almost-black ones. His pale skin the same way. Michael sounded like a teenaged girl when he thought about running his hands through the mess of brown curls that sat on his head. 

God he was way too fucking gay for this. Why couldn’t this kid just like...Not suck? And stop getting on Michael’s last nerve. 

Instead of spending his free time writing on his scripts or watching a stupid sitcom or playing some video games, they were now spent either wishing he could punch the stupid smirk off of Jeremy’s face or wishing he could kiss it off.

_Fuck._

Well this was annoying. Now he had even more shit to get his anxiety all worked up about.

_In. Out. In. Out._ Michael let the smoke cluster around him as he finished off his cigarette along with his lunch. Checking the watch hanging on his wrist, he popped in a piece of gum before making his way back into the building.

Just as he shrugged his coat off to hang on the rack he heard a voice behind him.

“You know they hate when you smoke up there Michael.” 

Rich. He knew him too well. As he should, being as they had been friends since high school, both skipping town as soon as they could.

“Yeah, well, I have claimed my territory on the roof.” He shot back, smirking slightly as he checked the time again. It had become a habit all morning. In his mind he knew it logically wasn’t making time pass any faster, but he couldn’t help it. It was either the obsessive time checking or he would revert back to biting his nails.

“Mmhm. Well I’m not taking the blame for you over it again.” Rich smiled, taking his place behind the almost-too-tall desk.

“Never asked you to. Hey heard anything about my meeting?” Michael leaned up against the desk, peering over as Rich shuffled through phone messages and paperwork.

“Nope. But you know he’s gonna be here any second.” He sighed, having answered this same question about a million times since the meeting had been set up.

“I know..” Michael let the sentence die off as his eyes darted over to focus closely on the door, thinking that if he stared at it hard enough that suddenly this mystery man would walk through them.

Okay that was stupid. Michael paid too much money and worked his ass off way too hard in college to think that would help but that didn’t mean when the elevator doors dinged and an unfamiliar guy walked out of them, that his heart didn’t pick up speed.

“Holy _shit_ ,” He heard Rich mutter softly behind him, the sound of papers dropping to the floor following soon after.

Michael didn’t know what he expected this guy to look like, but a tall, young, handsome man wasn’t that.

This guy was wearing a suit that didn’t quite fit him, the pants legs bunching up around his very new looking dress shoes. One of his hands fiddled with the bottom on the wrist of his blazer, but he somehow still managed to look calm and collected, rather than it appearing like a nervous tick.

A light smile tugged on his lips as he surveyed the room, taking in his surroundings like he owned the place.

He definitely looked like the type of guy who would have kicked Michael’s ass in high school. But in all honesty Michael would’ve granted him permission at this point. Gorgeous brown locks and all.

“Hello, I’m looking for-” This mystery man was abruptly cut off as Rich suddenly pushed himself up over his desk, trying to slide across it in a cool fashion. This failed miserably as he crashed onto the floor, his stubby legs not long enough to get him across the length of the desk. 

Scrambling back up, eyes widened with either fear or shock (Michael couldn’t tell), he looked up to this new guy.

Then he said the worst possible thing he could have said after that little desk mishap.

“Looks like I’ve fallen for you already,” The lame pick up line fell from his lips, his feet shuffling back a little so he didn’t have to look up so far to meet the strangers eyes.

“W-what?” He managed to stutter out around a laugh, his head cocking to the side slightly in amusement and confusion.

“I’m the receptionist here, and calls aren’t the only thing I take.” And another stupid line was being tested out, Rich’s nervousness steadily worsening his lisp. “Fuck. Those were stupid. How about.. From the moment I first looked up to you, I knew I wanted to go down on you too.”

“I personally would have used ‘Can you file a workplace safety incident report? I just fell for you.’” This, still unnamed, man said as he finally stopped fidgeting with his sleeve, holding his hand out to the man assaulting him with cheesy pick up lines. “Jake Dillinger.”

“Rich-Richard Goranski,” Rich awkwardly shook his hand, trying to keep his lisp as well as his breathing steady.

All of this occurred as Michael stared at the two from the side, shocked and confused as to what he had just witnessed. 

“I’m Michael, but I’m assuming you’re here to see me and know that already?” He butt into the conversation, laughing nervously.

“Yeah, hi, that’s what I’m here for.” Jake said, almost like he had forgotten his reasonings for being here in the first place. “You’re still okay to talk to me?”

“Of course. Better than writing another article about the do’s and don'ts of going to gay bars.” Michael joked, nodding his head towards the empty conference room, making his way over.

He was really hoping his nerves weren’t showing too bad, and that he wasn’t currently sweating through his (new) shirt.

Jake sat down across from Michael at the table, leaning forward and crossing his hands over each other. His demeanor was strong but not scary. Michael wasn’t too intimidated by him.

“So, I assume you don’t know why I’m here?” Jake said, raising his eyebrows a bit towards the end of his question.

“No?” Michael spoke, waiting for him to continue.

“Alright.. Well it seems that last week you got into a small altercation with my client. Jeremy Heere?” 

As soon as the name left his mouth, Michael let a groan slip from his own lips.

“Jesus Christ-sorry I just.. I just.. Seriously? That kid again? Hasn’t he bothered me enough, now he’s sending his agent after me?” Michael leaned back in his chair, watching the man across the table.

Why the hell would he seriously have his boss come over here to talk to Michael about some stupid coffee on his sweatshirt. Couldn’t he pick and choose his own battles? Michael was the one who got covered in coffee first anyway, if anyone should be mad it should be him. He should be storming Jeremy’s work place or whatever to give him a piece of his mind but instead he’s doing the adult thing by leaving it alone.

Okay maybe the adult thing wasn’t what he had done when he continued to review his acting after he was told not to but come on, give the guy a break he was crushing hard over some idiot.

“He doesn’t know that I’m here. And i came to apologize on his behalf.” Jake let his head hang slightly, as if he had been the one that had done it.

“Shouldn’t he be the one doing that? I mean I appreciate you coming all the way here for an apology but it isn’t really yours to give..” Michael trailed off, shrugging his shoulders slightly.

Jake slipped a small stack of papers from his folder, sliding them across the table into Michael’s sight of vision. “Jeremy’s old agent he.. He treated him terribly. Only booked him bad jobs, spoke to him awfully, he tore him down at every chance he could. I’m not excusing what he did, but I am explaining why he came up here so often and why the idea of getting a good review rubbed him the wrong way. He’s.. not in the best mindset right now. Luckily we got this guy fired and I have taken over his place but.. He’s still working to better himself.”

Michael shuffled through the pages, seeing emails and text messages between Jeremy and this guy called ‘Squip’.

He let his eyes skim down the pages, physically cringing at some of the words that his old agent had thrown his way. How could someone say these things to another human being? And still look them in the eye every single day at work? It was horrifying.  
Michael tore his gaze off of the pages, shoving them back towards the businessman. “Oh.” was all he managed to mutter out, a frown set on his face now.

“There have been.. So many people who have just quit the business because of the way he treated them and the way that he wore them down..” Jake mirrored his frown, tucking the papers back into their rightful folder.

“Can you uh.. Can you tell me about them?” Michael’s brain didn’t register what he was speaking until it was too late, and he quickly tried to backtrack on his question. “I’m just curious- I mean you don’t have to talk about them, I’ve just never heard anything like this happening before.”

Michael thought that he had gotten pretty good at talking to people through his job. He had done some public speaking throughout college, and he constantly has to give interviews for his writing pieces. But he was crazy nervous to talk to Jake about this specific subject.

(He was telling himself it wasn’t because Jeremy was involved in it, and that it was just an insane situation that was causing his skin to crawl.)

Jake was a little taken back, surprised that he wanted to hear more about the situation. When he was given all of the files and passwords to everything and have to go through everything before starting the job, he couldn’t wait to finish it. 

“I mean.. Yeah? I can have some files sent over and the emails forwarded if you wanted to read more. I don’t really have any on hand..” He paused to let his fingers brush over the manilla folder as he thought. “But I can definitely tell you more about Jeremy until then?”

As Michael nodded his head, he turned to see the door to the conference room creaking open gently. 

Rich peaked out from behind the door, balancing one coffee to go cup on top of another, a shit eating grin across his features.

“Hey! I thought you guys would maybe want some coffees?” He slid into the room, stopping at the edge of the long table, setting the cups before them.

(Everyone in the room knew this was just an excuse to get to come into the room and make puppy dog eyes at his new eye candy, but they accepted the coffee anyway.)

“Thanks,” Jake leaned back against his chair, smiling back up at him. “You can stay you know? I mean if you want to, and if you’re free to of course. We’re just talking.” A gentle shrug was sent Rich’s way, like he was trying to play it off as no big deal if he declined his offer.

“I don’t know..” His voice faded off, like he was really thinking it over even as he was already pulling a chair out for himself.

“Rich, dude, you have to hear about what was going on at that Jeremy kids casting agency. It’s insane!” Michael nudged his arm with his elbow as he raised the steaming drink to his lips.

Jake scooped his own up, eyebrows raising as the motioned caused a small flinch from Michael accross the table.

He tried to play it off with a joke, something he had gotten pretty good at if he would say so himself, quickly saying “Keep that to your side of the table Dillinger, hopefully you don’t take after your client’s when it comes to caffeine clutching.”

Silence took over the small room, Rich looking back and forth between the two with a lost, wide eyed look as he didn’t know what to say.

Suddenly Jake set his paper cup down, Michael’s eyes following his every move. Throwing his head back, his eyes shutting, Jake let out a loud laugh.

Nervous at first, Michael and Rich began to laugh along with him.

With one of his hands balled into a fist, Jake began to lightly tap his knuckles on the table as he tried to catch his breath after his small fit.

“Jeez- Jeremy told me you were a funny guy. I wasn’t expecting you to be this much of a jokester!” He wiped under his eye as if wiping away a tear that had fallen.

If it hadn’t been for his underlying anxiety, Michael would have asked for him to elaborate on what he meant by that, but he chose instead to tap the toe of his shoe on the old carpet under their feet.

“Ha. Yeah..” He picked at one of his nails, quickly hoping to change the subject. “So.. you were saying? About Jeremy’s personal experiences? Can I ask you some questions about that? Just.. ya know, if I’m going to continue to go to his shows and want him to stop coming to yell at me before I get fired, I want to make sure I don’t misspeak..” 

With another shrug of his (very broad) shoulders, Jake let his eyes gaze on the ceiling as he began to speak.

And that’s how he learned… everything. Jake told them how Jeremy graduated a year early from school, packed his bag, and come to New York at only 17 to start his life. He told them how he lived on the shittiest part of town, and has to work as a part time waiter just to make enough for rent and food. Explained to them how this Squip guy took advantage of this young, desperate, just starting out actor and began to use it to slowly break this poor kid down.

He refused to reply to emails about big jobs asking for Jeremy to audition for, thinking that if he got one he would have the money to leave the agency for a better one. How he constantly sat in on his lessons (vocal, acting, dancing, etc.) and repeatedly would complain about and nitpick every little thing that he did. This, in turn, made it incredibly hard for Jeremiah to take compliments and good criticism.

(Which would explain the showing up multiple times. He must have assumed Michael was poking fun at him by not saying anything negative the first time around.)

By the end off their meeting, Michael’s mind was racing around with ideas. And a newfound hatred for this Keanu Reeves knock off looking asshole named Squip.

Walking Jake to the door, he held his hand out for a handshake as he spoke, “Thank you for coming to talk to me. I’m glad I know the story now and I really hope that things get better for him.. He really is a crazy talented guy, I would hate for this to cause him to give up his dreams.”

“It’s really no problem, kinda what I gotta do. But I’m glad I did it face to face instead of over the phone, you seem like a really nice guy Michael.” Jake shook his hand firmly, a warm smile sent down to him as he pushed the folder into Michael’s chest.

“If anyone asks, I lost that.” A cheeky wink towards the blushing receptionist and Jake was out of there and back out into the white dusted, cold weather.

\------

Jake wasn’t kidding when he said he would have the papers and emails sent Michael’s way. By the end of the day where were four office boxes sitting on his desk and 50+ emails forwarded to his inbox.

It was a pain in the ass to drag the boxes along with him on the subway, but worth it as he dropped them onto his small bedroom floor later that night.

Michael kicked his chair out away from his desk, sinking into it as he started his computer up to life. Kicking his shoes aside, he used one hand to type a question into the search bar as he used the other to unbutton some of the button on his shirt. 

_‘anonymous news columns’_

\------

Hitting send, Michael leaned over to look at his clock on his bedside table to check the time.

“Oh fuck-” His voice rang through his empty apartment, the blinking green numbers reading _‘4:47’_ at him.

Basically rolling out of his chair, he rested his hands on his waist, groaning as he popped his back.

_‘You promised you’d stop staying up like this.’_ Michael thought, ragging on himself as he kneeled down to pack the scattered papers of his research around back into their places in the boxes.

Shoving them aside, nearly falling out of his bands, he tossed his glasses onto his table and curled up face down into his pillow. He had almost an hour to doze off before he was supposed to hop back up to get ready for work, having spent the entire night writing an anonymous article all about Squip, his agency, the things he had done to the actors like Jeremy.. 

If he wasn’t so dead tired, he would’ve stayed up all night just thinking about the horrific things they dealt with.. As bad as Michael had it in school, that was nothing even comparable to what he had read that night.

Hopefully his article will shine some light on what happened and prevent it from happening again. Prevent anyone else from becoming… that way.

_‘Hopefully..’_ his eyes drooped, Michael slipping into a heavy sleep for the next 45 minutes, forgetting about the article and Squip Agencies and Jeremy.

Okay, maybe not Jeremy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know it's not great but aaaa im getting better every chapter (i hope??)  
> special thanks to my girlfriend brooke for proofreading this and basically outlining the whole fic for me so i didn't rip my hair out  
> kudos and comments are always appreciated!   
> come yell at me to update more on tumblr - @connormurphweed


	4. Falling for the Boy (Reprise) - Bubble Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys meet in a cafe, and fluff ensues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me? uploading not at 1 am? what a concept  
> anyways; this is a super fluffy filler chapter that is just to set up the next chapter but!!!! check out my added tags for this fic ;D  
> this chapter is dedicated to [pink-berry-froyo](http://pink-berry-froyo.tumblr.com/) on tumblr because they drew!!! [the coffee spill scene](http://artttho.tumblr.com/post/163687407619/hey-so-my-good-friend-connormurphweed-is-writing) and i'm never gonna be over it, i'm so so so in love with it

Being in public wasn't one of Michael's favorite things. He had learned pretty quickly in middle school that social anxiety was going to be his best friend as the years passed, but luckily with moving to New York he got a new burst of confidence when it came to public spaces he was more comfortable with.

Take his favorite cafe for example. Roccos. Jenna had been the one to show her this place, and since the first time he walked in the door he knew this was going to be one of his safe spaces.

It was a small place, Michael had his usual table that he spread out at. He liked to people watch when he needed inspiration for a piece, it helped him figure his thoughts out.

But he came in with only a book tucked under his arm this time.

He settled into his chair, seeing that there was already a lengthy line and no point trying to get an order in now. 

He flipped his wrist over as he set his book down, looking down at his dated watch. The thing barely worked anymore but his mom's got it for him as part of his graduation present, said all the top journalists had watches. He really needed to get a new one. But he couldn't bring himself to stop wearing this one.

_'12:14'_ Michael counted off. Figures that he would come in at lunch rush, he's just lucky he managed to escape the crowd on the subway earlier.

Flipping his book open, he decided to finish up the chapter he had paused on earlier before he got up to order a drink.

People continued to order, pay, and they cycled in and out of the little shop quicker than he had expected, and as he placed his bookmark in his page, the line had been replaced by one lone stranger ordering a cannoli and a coffee to go.

Michael shoved his hands into his pockets, leaving his book and coat at the table and prayed that nobody would move them as he moved his way up to the display case.

He tapped his foot on the floor along to the beat of whatever song was playing softly around, most of it being washed out by the sounds of the customers and workers chatter but he liked it that way.

This was something he wasn't good at. Ordering. No matter how many times he ordered here or how many times he repeated his order in his head he still stumbled over his words and regretted ever getting up when it was his turn in line.

He always felt like a bother, like they hated him for buying something (even though in his mind he knew that was false, and that it was the opposite), or that they were mocking his order in their heads no matter how basic it was.

(When Michael was growing up he still brought his lunch from home even well after the age of that being cool because he couldn't face having to stand in line with the kids at his school and get a tray lunch from the lunch ladies. If he ever had to do it, he just wouldn't eat that day.)

Michael was getting better at it, definitely, but that didn't stop him from picking at the skin around his nails as he mumbled out an order. Earl grey tea and a banana nut muffin. That's all he has to say.

(Does that stop his hands from shaking even after he's paid and shoved a couple bills into the tip jar? Of course not.)

His hands grabbed the small brown bag holding his muffin and his cup, moving to go back to his little table and back to his book.

Mentally he was giving himself a little pat on the back for not bursting into tears suddenly during that interaction (yes, that has happened to him before. It's not fun.), but small party in his mind was cut short when his eyes gazed over a familiar pale hand moving his book over to read the cover of it.

Michael froze a little, both internally groaning and cheering as he tried to rack his brain for something to say.

'Hey' was lame.. they had talked before and very much disliked each other.

'What are you doing?' seemed like it was going to startle the poor boy half to death, and while it would be funny he didn't want to be the cause of that heart attack.

He stuck with a simple, "Don't lose my place in it," as he gently set his items beside Jeremy's hands on the small table.

"Oh I was just-" His eyes were slightly wide as he set the book back down in the place it had been before as he cut himself off.

"Just looking? It's fine." Michael shrugged, still feeling shaky and nervous from the previous situation with ordering.

"Fancy uh, seeing you here?" Jeremy's voice went up slightly near the end, making the statement seem more like a question. "Sorry, that's something lame people say.. I just wasn't expecting to see you when I came in so I've kinda just been hanging by the door because well I'd have to walk past you to order and I was super nervous that you'd like trip me or something which you totally deserve to cause the last time we saw each other I spilt coffee on you- which was an accident by the way, I don't think I ever said that.. Or ever officially apologized so- I'm sorry, I mean you did purposely pour it on me too but I don't expect an apology honestly I deserved it but-"

Michael was honestly just surprised the kid was getting enough oxygen to his brain to form words with how fast he was rambling on, switching from topic to topic like it was some kind of parkour in a video game.

"Whoa- Okay- Calm down, I was making a joke dude. I appreciate the apology though." Michael sunk down in his seat, eyes not leaving Jeremy. "But you know.. this is kind of becoming a thing."

"This- what's becoming a thing?" Jeremy shuffled his feet a little, not wanting to assume anything and take the seat across from him, and eyeing the exit behind Michael, totally ready to make a getaway at any moment if necessary.

"You stalking me." Michael took his muffin out, trying to keep as straight as he could.

A small _'uh!'_ sound left Jeremy's lips, his hands going up to pull at his scarf as something to distract him a little.

"I am _not_ stalking you!" He squeaked out, giving his head a small shake as if to set the words in stone, to make him believe what he was saying more.

"Mm," Michael hummed, tilting his head slightly. Watching him squirm was kind of cute, and Michael thought about offering him the seat but decided he would make him earn it first. "You realize how crazy populated Brooklyn is right? And yet here you are, reading my book while I order."

"Well-Well!!" Jeremy's eyes rose to look at the ceiling as if there would be a comeback written up there. "I live right down the block! And my place has bad heating so I come here to get work done! So really, you're in my turf!"

"Did you just actually use the word _'turf'_?" Michael laughed (he decided to ignore the comment about his apartment, knowing he probably didn’t want to talk about it), popping the lid off of his tea as his eyebrows raised. That reminded him of something his mom would say. She always used outdated 'lingo.'

“What kind of muffin did you get?” Jeremy quickly (in a very unsubtle. way) changed the subject, finally tugging his scarf off from around his neck and let it drape over the back of the other chair. 

“Nice segway. Banana nut.” Michael nodded his head in the direction across from him, finally giving him the permission Jeremy had been waiting for to sit down.

“Blueberry is better.” Jeremy stated, shaking his coat off as he took the seat, leaning his elbows forward on the table.

“That.. is so wrong, I don’t even know where to begin.” Michael pushed his book aside, fully aware he was not going to be reading it today.

\------

The playful bickering continued for at least an hour, Michael hadn’t bothered to look, and they were now talking about an embarrassing story from Jeremy’s high school drama class days. Both his book and Jeremy’s laptop had since been forgotten, and two black and white cookies had taken their places on the table top.

“No- No dude you don’t understand, my mind just went blank!! In front of the entire school and staff and a shit ton of parents! I just, forgot every word of the song!” Jeremy laughed, a hand going to cover his mouth.

(Michael didn’t like that, he wanted to see him laugh but he didn’t feel like he had the authority to comment on it.)

“I could never perform. That would end up happening to me every single time I stepped one foot on a stage.” Michael shook his head, beaming a smile at Jeremy as he stole another bite of one of the cookies.

“I could never write something and put it out for the world to see.. I guess we all have our thing?” Jeremy chuckled, finishing off his hot cocoa. “Want another tea?” 

He pushed his seat back, offering a hand out to take Michael’s cup.

“Oh uh- yeah, I would actually,” Michael smiled, fumbling for his wallet as he watched the boy take his cup.

“No I’ve got it,” Jeremy shot him a smile, making his way to the front to refill their drinks.

Well… that was nice. Michael didn’t have to worry about going up there to order again, but he wished he could have paid at least.

He tilted himself back a little in his seat, waiting until Jeremy was turned towards the girl working the register before he slipped a couple bucks into the front pocket of Jeremy’s coat.

What? Owing people money was another thing that make Michael’s anxiety levels rise, no matter how nice the gesture was.

Settling back into the warm seat, Michael acted like he had been scrolling through his phone when he saw Jeremy return to the table.

“Tea is so bland,” Jeremy joked as he pushed the mug towards Michael, setting his own steaming drink in front of him.

“Listen here white boy, not everything has to be sickeningly sweet to be good,” Michael teased him, raising his drink to blow on it softly, knowing damn well he would burn his mouth if he tried to drink it now.

“Mmm, but why not drink something super sweet when it’s an option?” He fired back, a goofy lopsided grin hanging on his lips.

_‘Jeremy’s freckles really stood out in the lighting of the cafe,’_ Michael thought as he watched him.

“Well, sometimes things that are sweeter are just worse.” Michael said instead, covering up his own mind's thoughts with a small laugh.

He felt nervous laughing in front of Jeremy now, the other boys laugh being so nice and beautiful it made him insecure about his own.

“Let’s agree to disagree on this one Mell. You can go back to drinking your bitter leaf water.” He nudged Michael’s foot with his own as he crossed one ankle over the other.

Michael didn’t know if it was an accident or on purpose but either way it still made goosebumps cover Michael’s clothed arms and his heart pound in his ears.

What was Jeremy Heere doing to him? God he was going to die from his own body not being able to handle being around this kid.

Jeremy continued to speak though, as if the touch didn’t effect him in the least.

“So.. okay this is going to sound incredibly stupid but.. I was gonna ask you if you wanted to go to this party thing with me tomorrow night.” Jeremy ran his finger along the edge of his mug, tracing the circle opening around and around.

“Yeah,” Michael shrugged, acting like it was no big deal that this guy just (basically) asked him out even though a week ago he was emptying a coffee cup over his head.

“It’s a friend’s party thing at this bar to celebrate their musical finally getting some producers behind it and I just get kinda nervous going to these things even if it’s friends and I thought since you know you understand the anxiety thing that you would- _oh_.. You said yes..” Jeremy’s eyebrows were raised, his blue eyes were peering at Michael like he was waiting for him to change his mind any second now and he would continue on his anxious rambling.

“Yeah, I did.” Michael joked, smiling at him to try to reassure him without words. “It sounds fun. But I will need your number if you want me to be your buffer at this party.”

_‘Smooth.’_ He silently cheered himself on for successfully asking for Jeremy’s number without screwing up. A milestone for him too. Michael once left an amazing date without getting the guys number because he started overthinking at dinner. He ended up talking himself into thinking that if he asked for his number or gave him his that he would feel like he needed to go on another date or keep in contact with Michael. Living with anxiety was just a joyful time all around.

“Right!!” Jeremy’s face lit up again, stealing a napkin that previously help a coffee, searching in his pockets for a pen. “Ah- hold on.” He jumped from his seat (the urgency made Michael almost a little too happy), heading over to the counter again.

Michael heard him ask for a pen, returning seconds later popping the cap off of it.

“How do you do that?” Michael asked, watching him chicken scratch his name and number onto the brown paper napkin. (Yeah, like Michael would forget who gave him his number because he was just rolling in date invites and guys phone numbers.)

“Do what?” Jeremy folded it in half, sliding it across the smooth table.

Michael pressed his hand over it, careful not to crease or scrunch it up as he slid it into the page of his book that was currently being bookmarked by a random receipt.

“Just be so casual while talking? I would have never gotten the courage to go ask for a pen. I’d probably write in blood before that would happen,” Michael ended with a joke, hoping not to seem as weird as he now felt. Why did he ask him that? Normal people don’t get nervous asking to borrow writing utensils.

“I guess the acting helps with my social anxiety? I don’t really have a problem talking to people.. But if there’s too many people in a room or it’s too loud then that’s when I start to freak out a little,” Jeremy chuckled, shrugging his jacket over his shoulders, loosely wrapping his scarf around his neck. 

Michael took that as a sign that it was time to go, and with a glance at his old watch he was next to put his warm layers back on.

“That’s fair.. Anxiety is stupid.” Michael scooped his book up, lifting out of his chair and held a glove covered hand to Jeremy.

Accepting it, Jeremy got up as well, dropping his hand once he was steadied on his feet. Michael held back a frown at this, of course.

“Definitely,” He agreed, stepping over in front of him to hold the door out for him. 

Jeremy nodded as a ‘thank you’ before walking out to the lightly dusted streets. He tightened his scarf as Michael stood beside him.

“So.. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Jeremy chewed on the inside of his cheek, a nervous habit he really needed to kick.

With a nod, Michael took a couple steps backwards.

“See you tomorrow, Heere.” 

He turned, before pausing and turning back.

“Well.. not _here_ exactly, but, okay it was a joke to get back at you for using my last name earlier but I feel like that was hard to understand in a verbal conversation- you know what? Explaining it is making it word. I’ll be there, see ya.”

Jeremy blamed the red tints on their cheeks on the cold air, parting from him with a laugh as they walked in their separate directions back to their homes.

Maybe this Michael guy wasn’t so bad.

And maybe Michael was crushing harder than he thought on that asshole Jeremy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope this wasn't total shit, i tried my best alright alright  
> kudos and comments are always appreciated!!   
> follow along with my breakdown while writing on my tumblr - @connormurphweed


	5. The Bar Song - Things to Ruin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael calls his mom's  
> Michael has a panic attack  
> Jeremy goes home with Michael

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me? Not vaguing on a chapter summary? not possible.
> 
> NOTES FOR THIS CHAPTER;  
> THERE IS SOME DEEP CONVERSATION NEAR THE END OF THIS THAT I WILL MARK WITH *** AT THE START AND END OF THEM. THERE ARE LIGHT TALKS OF HOMOPHOBIA/TRANSPHOBIA AND TALKS OF DEPRESSION/SUICIDE. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.  
> if you do decide to skip that part, you won't miss out on the story line, just small details. so do not force yourself to read it for the stories sake, it's not worth it. put your mental health first above everything else.

Michael surprisingly wasn’t too nervous when it came to dates. Okay.. he was in high school. Big time. But in his defense there were only like two other gay guys in his town!

But since his graduation and his big move to New York, he’s gotten better in the dating game than he was before. Maybe not in the sense of getting guys numbers or being the one to initiate the date, but once he was there he was pretty good at smooth talking.

So why was he standing in front of his mirror holding up two different shirts, while the floor was littered with every other article of clothing he owned? That was because of who asked him out on a date. Wait.. did it even count as a date? All of Jeremy's friends were going to be there.. _Fuck he was overthinking things again._

Michael let the clothes in his hands drop to the floor, letting himself sink into his creaky mattress as he yanked his laptop open.

Opening google, he typed in the first thing he could think of. 

_‘What do I wear on a date to a bar?’_

He hit enter, and quickly clicked the first link to an article that popped up. It was titled “11 Style Mistakes To Avoid On A First Date.”

With an eye-roll he muttered a soft “Nice,” but he continued reading anyway, he was desperate at this point. He had successfully tried on everything he owned at it all looked the same to him.

“‘#1; Don’t wear something dirty.’ Well fucking duh.. ‘#2 Don’t stress out too much- what the fuck kind of journalism is this?” Michael groaned, closing the laptop and pushing it off of his legs. 

There was one more option.. It’s one he had been avoiding all night.

He had to call his moms for help.

A couple of rings later, Michael was holding his phone up in front of his face, a wide smile taking over as his saw his mom, Analyn, show up on the screen.

“Nanay!” Michael heard his voice echo a little on the other end, laughing softly as he saw his other mom pop up over her shoulder. “Hi Mama!”

“Michael!! My love! My pride and joy! My only child! Do I need to remind you how long it has been since you last called us?” Liz spoke in a stern tone, but her face held her beautiful smile. Michael had always been jealous of that smile. It was so warm and welcoming, even at his worst moments if she just smiled at him, it felt like all the worries in the world melted away for that moment. His mom had fallen in love with her smile, and he couldn’t argue with that.  
“I know Mama, but I’ve been so busy!” Michael whined softly, feeling like he was 16 again.

“Too busy to call the women who birthed you?” She was teasing him. This was their joke, they liked to pretend that they had been the ones to carry Michael, and always used it against each other.

(“He’s smoking pot Analyn, what are we supposed to do about it? Should we punish him? I mean.. We smoked pot in high school so that makes us kind of hypocrites doesn’t it?” 

He once watched his mother's speak as if he wasn’t sitting right on the couch in front of them.

“I don’t know Liz, he came out of you! You deal with it!”)

(“Michael Ernest Mell, why didn’t you clean the dishes like I asked you to?” 

He had been trying to slip out of the kitchen without notice, but of course was caught by Liz.

With a shrug he decided to go with the challenging answer, saying casually “Mama said I should finish my homework first, and I mean, she did birth me.”)

(Or.. the one time they found him curled up in the bathtub shaking, covered in snot and tears.

“Oh Iho,” His mom whispered, pulling herself into the cramped tub with him, pulling him to her chest like when he was a child and scraped his knee.

“I don’t- I don’t wanna do it anymore Nanay, they won’t stop teasing me about it! I thought I would be okay to come out! Nobody ever says anything to you and Mama!” He sobbed, both his parents hearts breaking at the sight.

“Now you listen to me. We are beyond proud of you, and there are always people out there that are going to try to tear down who you are. It’s not true that nobody ever says things to your mother and I, but we brush it off because we have love. And that’s all that matters.” She pulled her sleeve to cover her hand, wiping his face gently.

“I just don’t want to feel like this anymore, I want it all to go away!” Michael clung to her shirt like it was his lifeline, refusing to look at her.

“Hey.” Her voice was suddenly more serious, but still calming to Michael as he tried to catch his breath again. “I didn’t carry you for nine months for you to leave before I’m ready. I brought you to life, and only I can take it away.”

She was trying to joke, trying to make him smile. And it worked. He cracked a small smile, knowing this conversation was far from over but needing a little breather.

“Not even God?” He tried to joke back, thanking his other mom softly as she handed him some toilet paper to wipe his nose.

“I’ll fight her myself if she even tries it.” 

“I will too!” Liz spoke finally, making her way to the other side of Michael in the bathtub, wrapping her arms around her small family.)

“Oh! So it’s you today!” He teased, getting up from his bed. “Will the fact that I’m getting dressed for a date make up for it?”

This caught his mother’s attentions, the phone being set against something he couldn’t see on the counter to face them. 

“Yes!!” Ana gasped, taking a seat on one of the stools at their breakfast bar. 

_“What’s his name?”_  
_“How’d you guys meet?”_  
_“Where is he taking you?”_  
_“Why are you calling us instead of getting ready?”_

The questions came at him at an alarming rate, and he decided to get back to the first few in a minute, focusing on the last one.

“That’s why I’m calling actually, I don’t know what to wear. Don’t the girls in the movies call their moms for help?” Michael balanced his own phone against his desk, shuffling through one of the piles of clothes on his floor.

“I mean.. Yes? But you’ve never needed our help before Honey. Why now?”

That.. was a tough question to answer, but if he didn’t tell them the truth they’d know. Sometimes Michael thought they microchipped him as a baby because of how well they knew him.

“You guys uh.. Know that Jeremy guy I wrote about? The one who came up to my work?” Michael made sure his back was turned to his phone, acting like he was folding a shirt.

“The one that ruined the shirt your lola bought you when you graduated? Yep, we know the one.” 

Oh right.. That was that shirt.. Oops?

“Well.. he asked me to come to this party thing that a group of his friends are going to and I invited Rich and it’s at this bar so I guess it’s not really a date?” Michael sighed, realizing it sounded less and less like he had been working himself over as he said it out loud.

“Okay. Don’t doubt yourself Honey. A bar you said?” Liz said, Michael not seeing the look his mother’s shared with each other.

“Yeah, nice place. I’ve been there a couple times.” Michael picked his phone back up, moving it over to his bedside table.

“Then why don’t you try one of those dark button down shirts you have? Maybe that one with the flowers?” Ana offered, giving him a reassuring look.

“It’ll look nice, without looking like you’re trying too hard. Plus it’s quirky. It’s the equivalent of the skirt I wore on your mom and I’s first date.” Liz agreed with her wife “Plus you look so handsome in it!”

“I remember that skirt, do you still have that? I never see it anymore?” Michael heard them go off topic as he pulled the shirt from one of the lumps, tugging his t-shirt over his head hastily.

“I think it’s in the back of my closet. Maybe next time you decide to wow me and take me on a date I’ll wear it.”

His fingers worked quickly, buttoning the shirt all the way except for the top button.

“Tucked or untucked?” Michael butt into their conversation, using the small camera to rack his hands through his hair, trying to fix it.

“Untucked.” They both called over, still having their own little moment while he was standing there.

He scooped up a pair of his old sneakers, sitting on the bed, going to tug them on.

“Michael Mell, we just bought you new shoes for your birthday. You are not going to wear those old things on a first date!” He heard the yell from the phone, making him drop the shoes with a sigh. 

“Yes Mom.” He drawled, leaning over the edge of his bed to grab said shoes from under there. He tugged them on his feet (No socks. Michael hated socks.) and tied them.

“Happy?” He sent a goofy smile their way, a hand going up to fumble with the back of his earring. 

“Very!” She spoke just as snarky back to him, copying his grin.

He wasn’t so nervous now about his outfit, his mom’s had helped calm that side of him. But now he was more nervous about this actual ‘date.’

Speaking of- _shit_ , he was going to be late now that he spent so long getting ready.

“Mom, Mama, I love you both. Thank you for the help, and I promise to call you tomorrow! But I’ve got to go, I’m gonna be super late.” Michael stuffed his wallet and keys into his jean pockets, doing a once over in the mirror one last time.

And with a quick, “Goodbye my sweet boy!!” and “Good luck!” he was shoving his phone into his pocket and racing out the door.

\------

The first thing Michael heard when shoving his way through the over crowded bar was a familiar voice calling, “Hey dweeb, nice shirt!”

“Hey Rich, want a beer?” Michael laughed, sitting on a stool at the bar, waving slightly at one of the bartenders.

Rich responded by holding up his hand, already holding a glass.

“Right, I’m late. Everyone already has drinks. Have you seen Jeremy?” Michael cut right to the question, his eyes darting around Rich and into the crowd as the bartender slid him a drink.

He thanked him softly, looking back to his friend in hopes for an answer.

“Yeah, your boyfriend is over there with my boyfriend talking to the short girl who I think we are here to celebrate. I’ve been hanging out here until you got here though so I’m not sure.” Rich shrugged, sipping at what Michael assumed was a white russian. It’s all he ever ordered.

“He’s not my boyfriend..” Michael mumbled, raising his drink to his lips as he let the smaller boy pull him back through the crowd he has just wrestled through, over to the table.

“Hey!! Look who finally got here!” Jake called, waving an arm in the air (it wasn’t really necessary, you could see Jake from a mile away), grinning.

Rich made himself comfortable on the end of the tables booth, setting his drink down.

“Sorry, pretty boy over here was ‘fashionably late,’” Rich joked.

Michael scoffed softly, not feeling the need to argue with him because well.. It was kind of true. And he was not about to admit he was working through a crisis with his mom’s about the boy he was now sitting next to.

“I think you look nice,” Jeremy said so softly that if he hadn’t been looking at him he would have missed it, and moved over slightly to give him more room, knocking shoulders with a smaller girl beside him.

“Thanks,” He smiled, setting his beer down. “So, are you the party girl?” Michael asked politely to the smiling girl crammed between Jake and Jeremy.

“I am!! We’re celebrating me getting one of my scripts produced! My first one!” She let a small squeal out at the end of her sentence before quickly adding, ““Oh! Right! I’m Christine!”

Michael couldn’t tell if she had already had a couple drinks or if she was just that happy (he would later find out she was stone cold sober, and was just a literal sunshine of a person.)

He smiled, raising his bottle up to her slightly. “Congratulations Christine. I’m Michael.”

“So who’s ready to party?!” Rich yelled over the music that had been increasing in volume since Michael walked in.

\------

And that’s what they did. They drank, and danced, and drank some more.

Along the way Michael had met Brooke, a choreographer that knew Jeremy from one of his shows and had promised to show Michael some videos of him in dance lessons some other time. And her girlfriend Chloe, the bartender who had been the one to give Michael his first.. And second.. And third beer.

The night was kind of fuzzy after his second beer, him always being pretty lightweight when it came to alcohol, but some things were sticking out to him.

Somewhere along the way Rich had gotten way too drunk and started flirting with Michael.

(“Why haven’t we fucked?” He said to Michael, suddenly standing at the table.

“What?” Michael basically choked out, staring at him wide eyed. Why was he doing this in front of everyone?

“You and me. Why haven’t we fucked? I mean, I’m hot, you’re definitely hot. What? Am I not good enough for your hipster standards Michael Mell?”

“Rich, you’re my best friend.. That’s why we haven’t fucked.” Better question, why did Michael let Rich get so drunk? 

“So that’s the only reason? Cause I was starting to worry-” He paused to raise a balled fist to his mouth as if he may either burp or vomit, but he did neither as he began to lean all of his weight onto Michael. “That like.. My dick wasn’t enough for your ass.. Or the other way around? Michael are you a top or a bottom?”

“I’m not going to answer that right now Richard.” Michael pursed his lips, not drunk enough to deal with him yet. He was not going to out what sexual position he was in front of all of these new people.

“No. I get it. I know Jeremy is a really pretty guy but like.. What the hell Michael? We never even hooked up in college.” Rich seemed oblivious to how bad he was making this situation, Michael’s eyes never leaving the table top. 

“Okay!! Enough alcohol for you!” Christine stepped in, slipping the half empty glass away from Rich.)

Michael wished he had stopped there.. But after he somehow got Chloe to bring them all shots, he was on another rant again. 

(“So I’ve been thinking..” He slurred, his lisp so much worse when he was under the influence. “And I’ve come up with my rating system.”

“Rating system of what?” Jeremy asked, messing with the straw in his cup. Oh god, why had he fed into whatever the hell Richard was doing now?

“I’m glad you ask Jeremiah! My rating system of our dicks.” He declared loudly, causing a few other heads to turn.

_Oh my fucking god._

“Oh really?” Brooke seemed to be more intrigued in the conversation now, having to bit down on her lip to hold back her laughter. “Please tell us Rich.”

“So, of course, Michael is the lowest on the list of best dicks.” He said as if it was common knowledge.

“Hey!” Michael tried to argue back, not realizing through his fogged mind that it really didn’t matter what Rich thought of his dick.

“What? You’re a hipster snob. Moving on- Jake is next and the only reason you’re in the second half of the list is because I demand to be top. Otherwise I’m sure your dick is fantastic.” He paused to take another sip of a drink Chloe had for some reason brought him. (Michael had decided early on she was running a bet to see how long it would take to give him alcohol poisoning)

“Gee.. Thanks?” Jake laughed, nervously running a hand through his (perfect) hair. 

“I’m next, of course.” Rich shrugged, going to continue before getting cut off by Michael.

“You can’t put yourself at the top of the list. That’s not fair.” Who the fuck cared? Michael while drunk apparently.

“I’m not at the top of the list!!” Rich whined, stomping his foot slightly. “Jeremy is! He just.. Looks like he’s got the greatest dick known to man. Michael I would watch out for me-” He went to look over across the table at Jeremy before he caught eyes with Jake again. “-Never mind. I forgot I’m good.”

Jeremy though, was sitting there with the biggest shit eating grin on his face as he was now chewing on his tiny black straw. 

“That’s fair,” Michael shrugged, clearing his throat a bit nervously when Jeremy makes eye contact with him. _Smooth Michael_.)

Michael would later down the line find out that Richard had pulled Jeremy aside that night and explained in explicit detail how he had seen Michael’s dick and was just messing with him. 

Explained to him, in his own words, “Dude.. it’s a fucking good dick lemme tell you.”

Of course that conversation was quickly cut short by a certain song coming on, causing Rich to drag Jake out to the dance floor against his own will.

(Michael had just been watching from the side, leaning on the bar, chatting with Chloe every once in awhile while she took drink orders. He had been sneakily watching Jeremy through this time, which caused him to bare witness to Rich and Jake on the dance floor.

The song wasn’t anything special, just some random pop number Michael had heard in passing in stores before but that’s about it. The beat was nice, he guessed. Not really his type of thing but apparently very much Richard’s type.

The next thing he knew, Michael was watching Rich try to grind back on Jake to the beat of the song.

The key word there was _‘try’._

Rich’s drunken mind must not have realized that when you’re 5’5 and the guy you’re dancing with is 6’2, it’s very hard to grind on their crotch properly. It ended up being more of Rich dancing sloppily against Jake’s thigh, but they seemed to be enjoying it (or too drunk to even care anymore) so everyone just left them alone.)

The night was fun. There were lots of laughs, Michael heard the best stories from everyone (his favorites being the embarrassing ones about Jeremy of course), and he ended up having a way better time than he thought he would. He was glad he didn’t chicken out of coming tonight.

\------  
Until about the 1 am mark.

Now his head was fuzzy, his limbs all felt weird (not hurting, not quite numb. Just.. like they were too heavy for his body.) and he stumbled his way back to their table.

Sinking down into the booth, he put his head in his hands to try to get it to stop spinning, the music feeling like it was playing directly from inside his head. 

_‘God. Make it stop. Not now.’_ He tried to will himself, finding it hard to swallow now.

Then it all just went quiet.

Michael lifted his head from his hands, the air feeling like a heavy weight on his shoulders as he looked around for someone familiar in the mass of people.

All he could hear now was his shallow breathing and his heartbeat banging against his chest. This was a bad one. This was one of the worst panic attacks he can remember.

He caught a glimpse of Rich and Jake on the dance floor, but they’re lost again in the sea of color before he can make a move towards them.

Putting his head down again, he starts counting like his mom’s taught him. To ten, once in English then again in Tagalog. 

Once he had done that a few times he felt okay enough to raise his head. _Big mistake._

His eyes fixate on Jeremy standing at the edge of the crowd, his eyebrows furrowed down in confusion and worry. Michael opens his mouth as if to call out to him, maybe for help or maybe to reassure him he’s okay.

_Another big mistake._

His voice catches in his throat as he pushes himself off of the bench, darting over to where the bathrooms are located.

Luckily it’s empty as he nearly throws his body against a stall door, leaning over a toilet and retching. Everything sounded like his head was under the water, which explains why when he felt a warm hand press into his back he nearly gasps (of course, his own gags made that pretty hard to do.)

“It’s okay, It’s okay,” A voice spoke behind him, their hand fisting the back of his shirt a little as they tried to calm him down.

Of course. Of _fucking_ course. No, nobody else could have been the one to see him race to the men’s bathroom, or see him puking up pure alcohol and french fries into a gross public bathroom. It had to be Jeremiah _fucking_ Heere out of all people.

“Sorry-I’m sorry-” Michael coughed out, his hand grasping blindly around for some paper towels or something to wipe his mouth on.

“Here,” Jeremy handed him some, the hand that had been in a fist was now rubbing soothing circles on his back. _‘God I hope he can’t feel how sweaty I am’_

Michael flushed, moving up as he wipes his mouth off, avoiding eye contact with Jeremy.

“Better?” Jeremy asked after a second of letting him catch his breath, moving slightly to give him some more room, their knees knocking together softly.

“I mean.. I don’t feel great. And you just had to witness me vomiting my guts out.. But-” Michael cut himself off abruptly, not sure how to explain how he felt. 

Jeremy gave him a knowing look, nodding his head slightly. “I know. Come on, think you can stand?” 

Michael didn’t answer, watching as the smaller boy pushed off of the (gross) floor, dusting his hands off slightly on his jeans before holding one out to Michael.

“I’d definitely pull you down,” Michael joked, trying to lighten the mood. He still felt disgusting, how could he left himself do that in front of the guy he was maybe (totally) crushing on?

“I’m pretty strong, I can take it.” There was that stupidly beautiful smile again. It somehow convinced him to take his hand, letting Jeremy help him up. 

Michael had expected him to drop his hand quickly like he had done at the cafe that day, but was pleasantly surprised to find that he left it in as he lead him out of the bathroom.

‘No no no no no. No more music. No more people.’ Michael began to panic again, his hand involuntarily squeezing Jeremy’s tighter.

“Whoa-I’m just going to ask Chloe something really quick, Okay? Look you can stand right here, I’ll be two seconds.” Jeremy did drop his hand now, pressing them slightly onto Michael's shoulders, situating him against the back wall of the bar. It was much less crowded over here, Michael was thankful for that.

A small nod was all that it took before the boy was bouncing through the crowd to get to the front.

Michael let his eyes roam up to the ceiling, finding comfort in counting the seconds off until his friend (could he call Jeremy his friend? He had just seen him puke..) returned.

He got to _172_ before he felt a presence in front of him again. This time he was holding a pair of keys and a glass of water.

Silently, Jeremy nodded in the other direction, willing him to follow him.

He passed Michael the cup, walking up the small flight of stairs ( _12_ steps. Michael counted as they walked up them. He liked counting.) and over to a door labeled ‘Employees Only’ and unlocked the door with the keys he assumed Chloe had given him.

Jeremy held the heavy door open, letting Michael walk out onto the small barred balcony in the back of the low lit alleyway.

“Figured you could use some air.. And it’s really quiet out here.” Jeremy explained himself, closing and re-locking the door behind him.

“Thank you.. Not just for this but you know, holding my hair as I vomited,” Michael joked slightly at the end, sinking down to the ground and letting his long legs hang off of the balcony.

“You don’t have to thank me, I get it. I’ve been on the side of the panic attacks and hacking up my lunch in public before. It sucks, but..” He trailed off, shrugging his small shoulders slightly. Michael knew what he meant.

“Still.. Thanks man.” Michael held his now half empty cup in his lap, tracing patterns in the condensation on the outside of the cup.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, listening to the low thump of the music from inside and the honking of the traffic along the street. It was nice. It gave Michael’s body time to calm down from the attack he had just been through.

“Care if I smoke?” Michael asked, his hand resting on his front jean pocket, waiting for the go ahead before he took his pack out.

“Yeah-oh sure,” Jeremy nodded, uncrossing his legs and finally letting them hang next to Michael’s.

Michael shuffled it out, taking one out before setting the pack beside him and lighting it. He took a couple drags of it (making sure to blow the smoke away from Jeremy) before speaking again.

“So.. what’s been your worst panic attack?” Michael questioned, before really thinking about what he had just asked. “You don’t have to tell me.. Sorry that was a super rude thing to ask man. Fuck.” He nervously ran a hand through his hair, taking another long drag.

*** 

“No it’s okay.. It was-” Jeremy paused, shifting slightly before he started his sentence again. “It was right after I came out. I somehow thought that if I.. If I told my parents that I was both bisexual and transgender at the same time. Two birds with one stone you know?” 

He paused to chuckled sadly, picking at the cuticle of his thumbnail as he spoke. “I sat them down in the living room, and I started out by saying I liked boys. Which was stupid because at the time I was still..” Michael knew he wanted to say ‘girl’, but he knew that wasn’t.. He wasn’t. So he reached his hand out, nudging his leg slightly to assure him he knew what he was trying to say.

“.. They both just stared at me, like I was dumb. Which I guess it was a dumb thing to say. So I started back tracking, explaining that ‘No I’m gay-Half gay- cause I’m a boy-’ and they just kept staring.”

Michael felt his heart squeeze in his chest, knowing how this story was going to end but not having the heart to try and stop him from explaining. Sometimes it helped to get it all out in the open there.

“My dad was the first one to talk, I love that man. He just got up and said ‘Okay. So what do I need to do? Where do we go from here?’ He’s been so accepting of everything, doing anything and everything that he could for me. My mom on the other hand.. She uh- She just started yelling. God there was so much yelling. It’s been so long now that I don't even really remember what she was yelling.. Just the sound of her voice.

Next came the breaking things. She threw pictures, broke plates, tore their room apart packing a bag. Screaming about a divorce immediately, telling my father it was her or me. After that he threw her right out. Tossed her bag out the door -literally- and slammed the door. That was the last time I ever saw her.”

Jeremy ended his story with another small shrug. (‘Shrugging must be his thing,’ Michael thought.) 

“And the whole time I was just.. Having an attack. I don't think I could stop shaking enough to sleep that entire night.”

Then his voice spoke up again, asking, “What about you?”

Michael had expected him to ask that, but it still took him a second to respond.

“It’s kind of funny- No it’s not. It’s awful.. But it’s a coincidence. Mine was when I came out too.” Michael smooshed his cigarette into one of the grates of the balcony, putting it out. He popped a piece of gum in his mouth from his wallet before he spoke. “It was an accident, in class. I forget what was actually said but I just.. Remember everyone for the rest of the school year being so vile. I mean, I had to spend my lunch period one day day scrubbing the word ‘fag’ off of my locker. Kids are so cruel you know? They’re worse than any adult I’ve ever personally met.”

Michael took a second to look up at the sky, his eyes darting around at all of the lights (whether they were stars of city lights, he didn’t know.) as he tried to find a straight path through this story.

“I skipped my last three periods that day. I couldn’t take any of them anymore. I just..” He paused to let a wet laugh escape his lips, feeling his eyes start to burn with tears. “I wanted to die man. I was ready for it to all just be over. I’d decided to just finish everything they had been telling me anyway. Luckily the school called my mom’s when I had disappeared from class, if they hadn’t I probably wouldn’t be sitting here spilling my guts out to you on a balcony in New York.”

“What happened.. When they.. I mean-Shit sorry-” Jeremy stuttered out, putting his head down into his hands as he immediately regretted saying anything else.

“It’s okay. My mom’s found me in the bathroom, I kind of have a thing with panic attacks in bathrooms. And they just, literally held me in the bathtub for hours and just cried and let me talk.” 

***

Michael paused, letting out the laugh that had been building in his chest. “My two full grown adult mom’s and my lanky 9th grade ass all crammed into a one person bathtub and cried.”

He continued to laugh, holding onto the bar in front of his chest to keep himself upright as his big laugh filled the quiet alley.

Jeremy began to laugh too, softly at first, before he too was hunched over himself howling with laughter. 

The boys took a few minutes to finally calm themselves down enough to the point where they were both now just sputtering a bit with laughter, catching their breath.

“What a night.” Jeremy was the first one to speak again.

“What a night.” Michael parroted. “Tell your friend Christine I’m sorry for stealing you away for the whole night to calm me down.”

“Oh she won’t mind, besides, she’s got work tomorrow so I’m sure she’s already slipped out.” Jeremy smiled warmly at him, picking at a string hanging off from his t-shirt. Michael was starting to regret not bringing their jackets out with them, finally noticing just how cold it was in the mid-fall night.

Michael nodded, suddenly shoving away from the edge and lifting himself up. 

He held his hand down to Jeremy, “Let’s go.”

Jeremy let Michael help him up, but stopped in confusion. “Go where?”

“My place? I mean you said your place was by Rocco’s right? So that’s all the way across town. Mine’s not too far, split a cab fare?” 

Michael suddenly realized how his offer sounded, and his eyes widened. “No I didn’t mean- Okay I just- I’ve got some left overs in the fridge I figured we could sober up a little and watch a movie or something and pass out.” He quickly tried to explain himself, feeling his face get warm despite the goose bumps running over his arms from the cold.

“That sounds great, should we let anyone know we’re leaving?” Jeremy shuffled the keys for the door out of his pocket, unlocking it while they spoke. 

“No, if Rich hears we’re leaving together he’ll never let me live it down. There will be printed out photoshopped pictures of us as a married couple with four children taped all over my office cubicle by Monday.”

“That… okay that’s a good point.” Jeremy laughed, grabbing the door handle. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Michael nodded, following him back inside.

\------

They made it back to Michael’s place alive, deciding that riding the elevator up was a bad idea with how much they had both had to drink that night. But they didn't realize how bad climbing up three flights of stairs also was while drunk.

By some miracle they made it to his door, Michael unlocking it as quickly as he could, desperate for the warmth of his apartment.

He pushed his body against the door like he always had to, holding his arm out into his place for Jeremy. “After you.”

Jeremy smiled, walking in and shrugging his coat off. 

“This is a nice place, like.. Twice the size as mine. Need a roommate?” He joked, letting Michael take his coat to hang up in the closet as he knelt down to take his shoes off as well.

“Dude if I had another room I totally would. It’s so fucking lonely in here.” Michael kicked his shoes off, turning the heater on quickly.

Jeremy laughed, standing back up, taking another (longer) look around the place. Jeremy hadn’t known Michael for very long, and he didn’t know him very well, but this apartment screamed _‘Michael.’_

“I don’t have hot cocoa cause.. Well I hate it but I do have the stuff to make my mom’s bomb as fuck apple cider.” Michael was already making his way over to the kitchen, Jeremy following quickly. (He felt nervous being left alone in new houses.)

“So you hate hot cocoa but love apple cider?” Jeremy questioned, standing awkwardly in the kitchens doorway, not wanting to be in the way because of how small the kitchen was.

“I’m a man of odd tastes Jeremiah.” Michael said, turning around with an armful of ingredients, setting them all next to the stove. “Besides, this apple cider has the best backstory ever.”

Michael started on his story of the ‘famous’ apple cider’s humble beginning as he began to work quickly, Jeremy holding his breath every time he picked the knife up while he spoke. He waved it slightly when he was talking, making Jeremy extremely nervous. But soon he was done, and a cup was being pushed into Jeremy's still slightly frozen hands. 

Michael watched him closely, waiting to see his reaction as Jeremy took an over exaggeratedly long sip of the warm sweet drink.

“Wow,” Jeremy smiled, nodding his head. “That’s incredible!”

“I told ya!! Bro you should have it when my mom makes it! Hers is at least 10 times better than mine, you wouldn’t believe. It’s better than drugs,” Michael poured himself a cup, leading Jeremy back out to the living room.

“I mean.. I’ve only smoked pot like a total of twice but I agree.” Jeremy hesitated for a second as Michael sunk down into on side of his small couch, before he sat down as well. He leaned against the armrest, not wanting to get in Michael’s space.

“What? Only twice? I gotta get you stoned sometime. Do you like, sleep or do you sing broadway shows from start to end?” Michael joked, crouching forward and setting his cup on his worn coffee table.

Jeremy’s cheeks turned pink suddenly, “I.. I may have sung and danced with Christine there, before passing out. But the only reason she was there was because i called her crying about something stupid and she thought I was dying.”

Michael howled at that, letting his head fall back against the back of the couch, happier now. This laugh was better, nicer, than the one they shared at the bar.

“That’s fucking rough. Man if you ever decide to try again, I’m your guy.” He nodded in Jeremy’s direction, before flipping the tv on.

The first thing that popped up was a rerun of an old space documentary playing on Discovery Channel.

“ _Shit_ \- Okay forget you saw that- _Fuck_ I had this whole vibe going but between the crying and making cider and this I’ve lost it-” Michael fumbled with the remote for a second before it was taken out of his hands abruptly by Jeremy.

“No leave it, I love space!” Jeremy perked up, turning the volume for the tv up as his eyes danced around the screen, fascinated. 

Michael’s heart fluttered as he watched him (he would later blame that on the alcohol still in his system), quickly looking away and grabbing the throw blanket off of the back of the couch.

He threw it over their long legs, leaning back comfortably into the couch cushion.

The last thing he remembers was talk about what would happen if Earth got sucked into a black hole, before he was dozing off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE COMMENT RICH MADE ABOUT JEREMY HAVING THE BIGGEST/BEST DICK WAS TOTALLY WRITTEN IN AS A CONFIDENCE BOOSTER FOR TRANS JEREMY CAUSE HAVING A VAGINA FUCKIN SUCKS I WOULD KNOW. IT WAS WRITTEN IN TO HELP JEREMY WITH HIS FEAR HE ISN'T PASSING (SOMETHING THE SQUIP MADE HIM FEEL LIKE HE WASN'T IN THE PAST)
> 
> this chapter.... was so fucking long guys. i started it thinking i'd maybe write 1k if i was lucky and have the chapter out by the end of the weekend but once i started I couldn't stop.  
> dont expect them all to be this long cause they won't. this is like a one time offer omfg i wanna die my hands are so cramped.  
> special thanks to; gabby as always for being so supportive and helpful and drawing my boys which motivates me beyond explanation and to brooke for literally writing that whole bar scene before the angst because i couldn't get it how i wanted it  
> kudo and comments are always appreciated!  
> come ask my questions about this fic on my tumblr - @connormurphweed


	6. Sunday Morning - Natalie, Pierre, and The Great Comet of 1812

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is a fluff exclusive, filler chapter that is completely just two Boys playing video games on a sunday morning in their pjs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first i just want to say how incredibly sorry i am that this took so fucking long to finish  
> i started my junior year a couple of weeks ago and i have been thrown through hell trying to get classes sorted out and shit (im taking six honors classes so,,, yea)  
> and i cant promise that i will be updating regularly until a couple months of school go by and i get into a rhythm and i hate that this is the chapter im putting out because i am not proud of this at all especially after the last one, but i hope it ties you over until i get another one out!  
> feel free to yell at me for taking so long in the comments :(

Waking up on the couch wasn’t something Michael was a stranger to. If it wasn’t the couch, it was his desk chair. His bed seemed to be the one place he didn’t happen to fall asleep on these days.

 

Waking up on the couch with a warm weight on your lap? Now that was the strange part of the situation Michael currently found himself in the middle of. 

 

He cracked his eyes open, quickly realizing he had fallen asleep last night with his glasses still on his face by the clearness of the room and the plastic frames pressing into the skin behind his ear.  _ Ow.  _ That definitely wasn’t helping the hangover that was slowly creeping up on him.

 

But Michael’s attention was quickly changed from his glasses and headache problem to the person whose head was currently in his lap. 

 

His eyes drifted from the messy curls that were falling over his legs, still adjusting to the brightness of his apartment at _7 am_. Jeremy was still fast asleep, a small snore was escaping from his slightly parted lips, and if his apartment hadn’t been so eerily quiet Michael is afraid he would have missed it.

 

He let his eyes linger over his face, tracing every little mark and etch of his face. Maybe that was a little weird? But.. the kid was sleeping in his lap, on his couch, in his apartment. Plus he can’t do this when he’s awake, that was too risky.

 

Jeremy had lots of freckles. Michael had noticed this before, but now he was closer and he could see them all. They ranged in sizes, and some were darker than others. They mixed in with the acne scars that dotted his skin, making it look like a map of the stars on his face.

 

He had long eyelashes, beautiful ones. That kept fluttering against his dotted cheeks as he dreamt. 

 

Michael took a chance and let his hand slid under the other boys head, carefully situating him on a pillow as he got up from the creaky old couch. He paused for a moment to make sure he hadn’t woken up, not ready for the talk about last night yet. He needed coffee first. And food. Definitely food.

 

He shuffled his feet against the floor as he made his way to the bathroom, running a comb _(barely)_ through his hair before brushing his teeth quickly. 

 

Michael slipped into his room next, being extremely quiet as he grabbed a pair of plaid pajama bottoms and a random t-shirt. ‘Better than day old, beer stained jeans’ he thought softly as he changed, tugging his sneakers onto his feet after he was situated.

 

Going back and forth for a while, Michael decided he didn’t need to leave Jeremy a note, being as he would be a maximum of _15_ minutes getting food down the street and stopping by the convenient store. Plus it was his place, and if Jeremy wanted to leave he could. (Not that Michael wanted him to of course. He didn’t.)

 

So instead he shoved his wallet and phone into his pajama pants pockets and as quietly as possible left his apartment.

 

\------

 

He was back within the 15 minute schedule he had given himself, carrying a small bag of donuts and two coffees in his hands, a plastic bag filled to the brim with hangover cures he swore by, along with another bag with a breakfast sandwich inside. He didn’t know what Jeremy ate but he needed to eat something if he wanted to stop feeling like shit.

 

Michael wasn’t expecting to still see Jeremy fast asleep on the couch when he pushed the door in, but he can’t say it didn’t make him happy to see him with his fists tight around the throw blanket they had shared just hours ago as he slept.

 

As quietly as he could Michael kicked his shoes off, set the bags and coffees on the table and turned the morning news on at a low volume. He let himself settle in on the rug, his back leaning against the front of the couch as he watched the news that Sunday morning.

 

He sipped at his (too hot to be drinking) coffee as he used his other hand to open the bottle of Advil he had gotten, the pounding in his head getting louder and louder by the second. Why did he drink again? He told himself every time that he would watch his intake so that he could stop waking up with these stupid hangovers and yet here he was again, gulping down pain relievers with scalding hot black coffee.

 

\------

 

Not too long after Michael has finished his coffee and a couple donuts he heart a soft groan come from the boy on the couch, but he decided it would be best to just keep his eyes trained on the TV in front of him until Jeremy was the first to decide to speak up.

 

Lifting his legs up, Jeremy say up on the couch and leaned forward to put his head in his hands. He let a small swear leave his lips, as his head spun a little from the sudden realization he was awake hit.

 

“Mmm, morning-” Jeremy mumbled softly into his hands, too scared of the bright light to open them just yet, but he wanted to be polite to the guy who had let him crash on his couch.

“Morning,” Michael chuckled softly, watching him and trying to ignore the flutter in his chest at the sound of his slightly raspy morning voice. “I got donuts and stuff, but also coffee. And Advil.” He offered.

 

Jeremy finally moved his hands, his eyes gazing over Michael, to the TV, and finally down to the food on the coffee table. “You’re a lifesaver.”

 

Michael laughed softly, trying to keep his volume down for Jeremy and his own sake. “Don’t say that yet, you’re still hungover.” He pushed the food towards the boy, getting up to throw his own stuff away.

 

Jeremy wasted no time swallowing the pills along with the sweet coffee Michael had ordered him.  _ ‘Mm, cinnamon.’ _

 

He hummed softly around the mouth of the cup, letting his eyes shut again as he tried to plead the pressure against his forehead away.

 

“Is it okay? I didn’t know what to order for you and that seemed like something you’d drink..” Michael started to doubt his instincts as he watched Jeremy nervously.

 

“It’s great, thank you, really.” Jeremy set his cup back down, shooting Michael a still half sleepy smile.

 

They sat in a comfortable silence as they drank their coffee and filled up on donuts, before it was Michael’s turn to speak up. “So.. pretty deep stuff last night huh?” he joked.

 

“Shit- I was kinda hoping me basically crying on your shoulder outside of a bar wasn't really what happened.” Jeremy groaned, shoving the last bite of his donut in his mouth in defeat.

 

“Nope. We bonded over tragic backstories bud. No taking that back,” Michael raised and tilted it towards him with a small laugh, getting up from the floor finally.

 

“Oh great,” Jeremy chuckled softly, standing up as well. “Do you have uh, pants I can borrow? My jeans aren’t the most comfortable things, and I was an idiot and fell asleep in them.” He laughed slightly nervously, scratching the back of his neck a little like he was nervous to ask such a small request.

 

“Oh, course! In there- first drawer on the right. Grab whatever, I promise they’re all clean.” Michael smiled, joking to mask the fact that he was screaming inside his head thinking about the short boy wearing his sweat pants.

 

And he nearly did scream when a couple moments later Jeremy shuffled out in two-three size too big red sweats and sat back down on the couch.  _ Michael’s so fucked. _

 

He makes his way over to the window, tugging the curtains down, his apartment becoming much darker.

 

Michael made a satisfied noise, turning back to Jeremy to see him staring off to the side.

 

“Wha-” He stops when he sees what he is looking at. His video game collection.  _ Oh _

 

“Dude, you have a gamecube?!” Jeremy asked excitedly, jumping up a little too fast as he wobbled a little and raised a hand to his forehead. His eyes closed for a moment before he was beaming again.

 

“Oh-yeah, you can go look at some of that stuff,” Michael smiled, walking over to the bookshelf tucked into the corner of his small apartment. It was covered top to bottom in games and consoles. (Way too many if you asked anyone; especially his moms.)

 

Jeremy knelt down, looking through every case on the shelves, making small noises whenever he saw one he liked. He finally paused and pulled out Mario Kart. Of course.

 

“I bet I can kick your ass at this,” Jeremy spoke confidently, the most confident Michael had seen him off of the stage.

 

“I hate to break it to you but, I’m the best Mario Kart player in the entire world. I wouldn’t want to upset you by completely obliterating you at it.” Micha teased slightly, but it was true. He was weirdly incredible at it, having played some rounds not even paying attention to the screen half the time. He had those maps memorized. 

 

Jeremy let a small ‘hm’ come from his throat as he stood back up with the game held out in his hands. He pushed it forward, letting the corner press into Michael’s clothed chest.

 

“You really wanna play this?” Michael asked, brushing his fingers against his as he took the game from Jeremy’s hands, opening the case.

 

Jeremy nodded quickly, moving back to the spot on the couch that had sunk down slightly from him sleeping on it all night, and tugging the throw blanket over his shoulders.

 

_ ‘God dammit. God. Damn. It. _ ’ Michael’s breath hitched slightly as his eyes darted away as he shoved the game into the console that was plugged into his tv, tossing a couple of the controllers onto the couch next to the blanketed boy.

 

And that’s how they spent the next three hours of the morning. Along with lots of bickering.

 

(“Dude you totally cheated!” Jeremy screeched as Michael sped past him straight into first place right as they passed the finish line. He let his controller drop into his lap, turning to look at him wide eyed. This was the fourth time he had passed him last second and won.

 

“I did not! I told you I was amazing at this game!” Michael laughed, pushing his glasses up on his nose as he leaned back against the couch. He kicked his feet out from under himself, resting them on the coffee table now.

 

Jeremy made a muffled noise, moving his own feet further underneath him, sitting up on his heels on Michael’s old couch. 

 

He had a challenging look in his eyes, his pale fingers wrapped around his remote as he watched Michael for a moment before speaking up, “Rainbow road. Winner takes all.”

“Takes all what?” Michael pushed, raising one of his eyebrows up. Mostly he just wanted to see how Jeremy’s face squished up as he tried to think of something to bet on now that he had brought it up.

 

“Loser.. Orders and pays for take out for lunch,” Jeremy said, noticing the time on the clock across the room as he spoke.

 

Michael let his head roll back, leaning it against the back of the couch with a small huff of breath. “Every anxiety ridden persons worst nightmare. You’re fucking on dude.”

 

Jeremy jutted his hand out, giving Michael an expectant look as he slowly slid his hand against his. He shook their hands a couple of times before he scooted back to see the screen, getting it set up on the correct map.

 

“Wait-” Michael sat up quickly, taking the remote from Jeremy’s hands causing the smaller boy to gaps softly.

 

Michael went back to the setting before the race starts, changing so now they are set on _200cc_. 

 

“No-wait- no don’t do that,” Jeremy leaned over, trying to get his remote back. “Quit that, that’s not fair to anybody!”

 

He was laughing though. A real laugh, not covering his mouth or biting back the laugh, there even was a small snort near the end of his fit when he got his controller back. It was beautiful. Michael wanted to make him laugh like that again, many many times.

 

“It evens the playing field! I’m trying to help you out here, bro!” Michael through the ‘bro’ out at the end trying to.. Chill the fuck out.

 

“Whatever, if I puke because this is so fast and I’m still hung over, it’s all your fault.” Jeremy smiled, leaning forward in preparation as he started the race.)

 

That’s exactly what happened.

 

Well, okay, Jeremy didn’t actually puke, but by the end of the three laps both boys definitely felt nauseous and ready to take a break.

 

“How about a hold on lunch?” Michael offered, tossing his controller onto the coffee table as he popped a couple of his knuckles.

 

Jeremy nodded, “Good idea. But you still have to order it later.” He smiled proudly, his eyes darting back to the screen to see it replaying the part when he won (Maybe.. Michael lost on purpose but would  _ never _ admit that, that’s not what true gamers do.)

 

Michael waved him off, watching as he slipped off the couch and wandered across the room. “Whatcha doin’?” He asked curiously, seeing him standing at his desk now.

 

Jeremy’s thin shoulders shrugged a little, as his eyes slid across the pictures on his desk. “Are these your mom’s?” He pointed his finger at a frame, not wanting to touch it in case Michael wasn’t cool with that or something. He already kinda felt like he was crossing the line by being at his desk but Jeremy’s curiosity always seemed to get the best of him.

 

“Yeah,” Michael smiled, pushing himself off of the couch with a creak as he walked over to the corner of his room as well. “Liz-” He stopped to let his finger brush against the picture to point at one of the woman. “And Analyn, but everyone calls her Ana.” Michael moved his finger to the other side of the picture.

 

Jeremy tilted his head to the side slightly as he looked at it, smiling a little. “What are they like?” His eyes didn’t leave the photograph.

 

It was a picture from Michael’s graduation, but Michael wasn’t even in the picture. His cousin had decided to take a picture of the two of his mom’s holding his cap and gown as he was off probably saying goodbye to teachers or friends or something. But Liz was laughing, her head tilted back slightly as her hands were clasped around the blue fabric, his cap was tediously resting on her head where Michael had remembered putting it before he ran off. He didn’t know what had made her laugh so much but seeing how Analyn was pouting he was sure they were teasing each other like they always did.

 

This was Michael’s absolute favorite picture of them ever. He wanted to be that happy with someone someday.

.

“-Michael?” Michael’s head jerked back to Jeremy, assuming he had been spacing out for a moment looking at the picture, and a blush rose up the back of his neck gently.

 

“Sorry- they uh.. They’re..” Michael searched his brain for the right words to describe them. “They’re everything. I don’t know how to explain them. You’d have to meet them, anything I tell you won’t do them justice.” He let the words fall out before he could cram them back in.  _ Shit no- _

 

“That’ll be nice,” Jeremy brushed a frizzy curl off of his forehead, a grin pointed right at Michael like he didn’t understand the mistake Michael had just made. Or thought he made..

 

He just nodded, not knowing how to keep the conversation going without him possibly embarrassing himself.

 

Luckily Jeremy was the one to start a new conversation.

 

Unluckily it wasn’t at all what Michael was expecting or what he wanted to talk about.

 

“I know.. That you uh- wrote that article. About my old agent,” His voice had gotten unbelievably soft, his nail picking at the wood top of Michael’s desk.

 

“Oh,” was all Michael said, beginning to chew on the inside of his cheek roughly.

 

Another not.

 

_ More silence. _

 

“Thank you.. That’s what I brought that up for. I wanted to thank you for saying all of that stuff.” Jeremy cleared his throat, moving to picking at a string on his shirt (Michael remembered him doing that last night too. He’d keep that in mind.)

 

Michael furrowed his brows, his lips parted slightly as he tried to ask ‘why?’ or ‘what?’ but nothing came out. But Jeremy seemed to get the idea of what he was trying to ask.

 

“It meant a lot to me that you would take the time and effort to write that and do the research for it… especially because I was an asshole to you when you did it.” He explained, gesturing his hands around a bit for emphasis.

 

“I literally poured coffee on your head..” Michael laughed, shaking his head. “And besides. It’s my job, even if I didn’t get paid for this specific piece, it’s what I love to do. I especially love to do it if I know it is going to benefit someone else, and it did didn’t it? He’s basically blacklisted from every line of work he could ever possibly want to work in.”

 

Michael had heard about that from Jake, and god damn he was proud of the fact that his words had been the ones to cause the downfall of that jerk. Even if his name wasn’t technically attached to it. Oh well.

 

“I spilled coffee on you fir- you know what? Just accept my thank you,” Jeremy’s freckled cheeks were tinted pink as his shoulders relaxed again to how they had been before he had brought up the article, calming down his nerves a little to see Michael wasn’t upset.

 

“Yeah yeah,” Michael nudged his shoulder, taking a look around his flat. “So, Chinese or pizza?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uck, i know, bad  
> but hey look theyre friends! thats nice!  
> mmmfffpphhh  
> anways, come scream at me for being awful on my tumblr - @connormurphweed  
> kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	7. I'm Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :(

Hey I'm sorry this isn't an update.

I came on here to say that I won't be continuing this story, for the foreseeable future. I have so many ideas that I want to write for this but with my schedule and the stuff that I have been going through I just can't bring myself to write this anymore, and for that I apologize. I may come back to this soon, I am moving which will open up a lot more writing time for me (hopefully), but for right now I just bit off more than I could chew and it got to a time when what I did write wasn't stuff that I was proud of.   
I will of course continue to keep writing one shots, maybe collections of drabbles later on, and so much stuff for my friends and aus we create. But this singular story has come to an end, and I'm really sorry about that.  
If you wanted to know about some of the ideas I had for this au, or questions you wanted to ask about it come ask me on tumblr! I'd be so happy to answer it, I still love this au so much. -> @connormurphweed

Till next time, Hailey <3

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah it was super short i'm so sorry, i just wanted to get this chapter out asap  
> Thanks for reading!! xx


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